


I'm Afraid of the Dark, Mr. Stark

by lildouglas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Family, Home, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, One Big Happy Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Scared Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Torture, dad tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lildouglas/pseuds/lildouglas
Summary: There's a large mess consisting of a sick aunt, a teenage boy sneaking out in the middle of the night to freeze in alleyways wearing nothing but a red and blue spandex suit, an actual dad billionaire who doesn't know how to be a dad but he was thrust into this position and has no actual clue what he's doing despite being a genius, some villains, some heroes, and an irrational fear of the dark.





	1. Wash Away

“Is there anyone else who could take care of you?” The woman’s forehead is devoured by wrinkles from stress and a bad habit of furrowing her eyebrows together. Even now as she's taking Peter’s hands into her own, her face is contorted and scrunched up. “Any relatives that we can get in touch with?”

Peter couldn't form words. He shook his head.

The woman sighed and let go. Peter felt uncomfortable at her touch, and he pushed his chair back to get as far from her as possible. His eyes darted away from the wrinkled woman and he looked towards the open door.

A nurse was guiding his dear Aunt to take a seat. “Mrs. Parker, please—”

His Aunt is yelling; she's mad. No one is sure as to why. The nurse whispers something to her, but May doesn't seem to hear. The door shuts. Peter looks away.

Peter nervously wraps his hands around the coffee cup in front of him. The CPS worker is scribbling on her clipboard, but Peter could care less. He's Spider-Man. If he can avoid getting murdered by super villains on the daily, he can avoid the CPS.

“I understand you don't want to go into the Foster home, Peter,” she says, tapping her pen against the table. “Your school — it has room and board, doesn't it?” It’s less of a question than a statement.

Too expensive. He barely got into Horizon High as it is. His scholarship covers his admission, but no way could he ever afford to live there.

“I can talk with the school, but if we can't secure you a room… I'm sorry, but the Foster home would be your only option.” She continues to talk even though Peter hasn't said anything the entire time.

“That won't be necessary.”

Oh, hell no.

The woman’s wrinkled face fades into pure, unadulterated shock. “Hi,” the familiar voice greets, “Peter is going to come live with me.”

Red dusted Peter’s cheeks. “Ma’am, this strange man is trying to kidnap me,” Peter speaks for the first time in a worried voice. He now grips the hands he was so adamant about avoiding.

“Don't be silly, Peter.” The woman chuckles lightly.

“Yeah, Peter.” The man reaches over Peter to pick the coffee mug. He takes a sip, then sticks his tongue out in disgust. “Don't be silly.”

“Stranger danger!” Peter yelled.

Tony Stark in all his glory stands in the retirement home, and he is ever out of place. He wears huge sunglasses to cover his face, but he's still recognizable to Peter.

“As an old friend of May’s, I'm glad to know that he won't end up in Foster care,” she says, biting her lip. “However, I have to ask why Tony Stark is adopting a child.”

“Actually, I don't think you do,” he says, a little more snappy than he had intended.

“That's kind of my job?” She raises her eyebrow. “This is a lot more complicated—”

“I'm Tony Stark. I do what I want.” With that, he starts to leave. Face flush red with anger, Peter stands up to tail him.

“You can't just—!”

Tony pulls down his sunglasses. He holds a finger over his lips. “Shh,” he hushes. “We need to talk.”

Tony continues to walk to the door in a brisk walk, and Peter tries to stop him. “Mr. Stark, please,” he begs, grabbing on to his sleeve. He digs his feet into the ground and pulls with his spider strength. Tony lets out a disgruntled noise and halts.

“What?” He plays coy. “Something wrong?”

“...” Peter mumbled, but Tony honestly couldn't hear what he said. Tony looks left and right at the busy commotion of nurses and elders. He gets Peter out of there.

Outside, Tony asks again. Peter puffs out a large chest of air. “I don't want to go,” he whines. ”I want to stay.”

Tony bit his lip. “Peter, you can't stay here.”

Peter’s face flashes with hurt. He shakes it off and musters an angry face. “I can. You don't make my decisions for me.”

And Peter’s mad. Peter’s fist is clenching, and he can't stop it. There are no villains here for him to fight, yet his stomach is filled with the same dread he faces every night. He sees something else in front of him — no clue what it is. He just knows it's not a hero.

It's betrayal of some sort. That stings.

“I am the adult,” Tony declares, louder. His teeth are gritting together. So used to Peter mindlessly following him, he's mad when this sudden rebellion sparked up in his eyes. “I do. You're sixteen, Peter.”

“No, you do not decide what's best for me,” Peter snarled. “You—You are not…” Peter trails off. He shakes his head frantically. “Please, go. I have to stay. With her.”

“Peter, you can't.” Tony’s voice is soft. His heart clenches. Peter’s face is shaded red, from the stinging cold and the burning anger.

“Why not?!” he exclaimed, voice screeching. A man pushing an adult in a wheelchair halts in his tracks. He looks over, worried. “You're not in charge of me. I am. And I choose to stay.”

“Peter.”

“No!” His voice was louder. He sees red. He spins on his heels. “Leave me alone!”

“Peter, you know you can't go back.” Tony doesn't move. Peter scampers away. “You know that. You know she won't know you.”

Peter stops. Tony didn't want the words to leave his mouth, but they did. The ugly, ugly truth shook Peter by the shoulders. Yet, he did not cry. He only stood on shaking legs.

“Peter, come live with me,” Tony says, soft but firm. Happy pulls up in his car. He opens the door for them.

He turns to face him. “I don't want to.”

“Whaaaaaaat?” Tony exaggerates. “You don’t want to live with a god, a billionaire, some assassins, and some retired folk? Who would pass that up?”

Peter snorts. A tiny giggle escape his lips. It feels nice. Bubbly, happy. It's quickly replaced by something dark. He's frowning. “The school I go to, the one you got me a scholarship for, it offers me room and board. I can live there.”

Tony isn't dumb. He knew about that. Yet, he's not fond of the idea of him living there. Tony always planned for Peter to move in when he's 18, but now it's come a bit early with the recent events of May.

The CPS agent runs through the door all of a sudden and meets them by the sidewalk. She's out of breath. “You can't just run off like that.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. This lady must be slow. Probably due to her ten inch heels. Ouch.

She holds up a finger. Between breaths she says, “I got us a meeting to talk to your principal.”

“A meeting? It's a Saturday,” Peter says, looking between her and Tony. Happy looks impatient.

“Yeah, and that's why we gotta go. Now,” she says, grabbing his hand. She throws her blonde hair over her shoulder to yell at Tony. “If you're serious about wanting to adopt him, contact me.” She scoops a card out of her jacket and chucks it at him. As it is a piece of paper, it slowly falls to the floor. She runs away, with Peter in her clutches. “I got him to meet us on his rest day, so let’s make it quick.”

They rushed into a tiny coffee shop, and the CPS woman twirled Peter into a booth. A man was seated there already. He was typing on his laptop when he looked up and closed it.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She digs into her files and digs out all the paperwork. “The sooner I get Peter settled into a home, the better.” She clicked her pen. “So, does Peter’s scholarship extend to room and board?”

The principal looked timid. The waitress came by before he could answer. She introduced herself, then walked away with their orders. “Can we talk in private for a few moments?” the principal inquired.

Peter raised an eyebrow. He nodded and got out of the seat. He started to explore the cozy cafe.

The CPS worker leaned in close. “Peter doesn’t have a scholarship.” She stops mixing her creamer into the coffee.

“What do you mean?” She presses pen to paper.

“His admission into Horizon High was paid for by Tony Stark, but he requested of me to keep it a secret from him. Horizon High doesn’t offer scholarships, you know.” He sips on his straw.

She sighed. “Man.” Arms raised over her head, she stretched. “Honestly, I’m not a fan of that Tony Stark. Their relationship remains a mystery to me.”

“I don’t have anything against him personally. However, Peter has skipped school on numerous occasions, all for his Stark Internship. I’m not a fan of that.”

She scoffed. “Sounds like you do have something against him.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He looks over to Peter, who is pulling out a book in the small cafe. He starts to flip through it. “You’ll have to talk to Tony about getting Peter a home here.”

“Tony doesn’t want Peter to live there. He wants him to live with him,” she groaned. “This is a mess.”

She stood up from the table, finishing the last of her coffee. “Thanks for taking the time out of your schedule to meet with me. Come on, Peter. Let’s go.”

Peter slides the book back into place. He catches up with her outside the cafe. “So what’d he say?”

“Peter, I’m sorry, but your options are limited. Tony is the best choice for you,” she replied.

Peter stops in his tracks. “There’s no other choice?”

She bits her lip. “If he will let you stay at Horizon High, there’s your other choice.”

“Why is it up to him?” Peter yelled. People passing by turn their heads to stare. “He is not my dad.”

“Peter,” she started, but Peter held up his finger.

“No! He is not my dad. Maybe he was my boss but not anymore. I am in charge of me, and no one else is.” Peter did not wait for a response. He sprinted away.

  
_May’s fingers were shaking as her pen moved across the page. She unclicked her pen and slid it across the table. Before it could fall to the floor, the pen was caught by Tony. He picked it up and signed his name. “Really, I should be thankful.”_

_Tony was quiet. This wasn’t his place. She continued, “He gets lost so easily, you see. I worry so much… But this is a big help.”_

_Tony didn’t know what to say. He smiled wryly. “I promise I’ll take care of him.”_

  
_He wrote his signature again, this time for the final time, and right next to the bolded words at the bottom of the page. It read: LEGAL GUARDIAN: Tony Stark._

  
The weather seemed to be getting worse and worse lately. Layered in two layers of pajamas under his Spider-Man suit, Peter set off for the Avengers Compound. The commute was too long, and Peter didn’t want to waste his webs.

Dropping his backpack on the top of the train, Peter sat and plugged his earbuds in. By the time he had finished half of his homework, the train pulled to a halt. He held up his web shooter to a nearby building, and he took off.

“Happy, where is he?” Peter asked the instant he was inside the building.

“Sir is in his lab,” she informed him. “Shall I tell him you are on your way?”

“No, I’ll be there soon enough.” He opened a window and scaled the building. Tapping on the window of God-knows-what-floor, Happy opened it for him. He slipped inside and closed it behind him. He scampered off towards the lab. Scanning his ID tag, he got passed the door. When he stepped inside the lab, Bruce and Tony were chatting in front of a whiteboard. Clint was sipping Hot Chocolate on a spinny chair.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter growled, dropping his bag.

Clint spun in his chair. “Peter! It’s been so long since you’ve came to visit,” he chirped. “How are you?” His voice started to falter. “Uh, you seem mad.”

“I want answers,” Peter demanded.

Tony set down his mug. “...Fine. Then, answers, you will get. But if you’re not happy with what you hear, it isn’t my problem.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t want to interfere. “Let’s talk somewhere in private.”

Isolated in the living room, Tony sat down next to Peter. He pulled out a file. Peter sat up, reaching for the file.

“When May found out, she came to me,” Tony explained. Tony handed it over to him. He frantically flipped through the contracts. “She just wanted the best for you.”

Peter’s hands were shaking with the contract in his hand. “What does this mean?”

“It means… I’m your guardian. Legally.”

“No,” he said softly. Then louder. “No. No! Aunt May--”

“Peter, please, listen to me,” he said, voice getting louder. “It was for in case something bad happened. As Spider-Man.”

“Aunt May couldn’t have… She would’ve told me.” He shook his head. “I want to stay with her.”

Peter’s face was red again. Never had Tony seen him this angry. “I want to stay.”

“Peter, you can’t.”

Peter couldn’t ever go back.

“You can’t ignore the facts,” Tony said harshly.

“I’m not.” Peter’s voice had softened. “I know.”

He continued. “I know Aunt May won’t ever remember who I am. But, please, I want to stay with her. I promised I’d protect her.”

“Peter, I’m not asking you to live with me. Legally, you don’t have a choice.”

“Why?” He stares at the sheets in shock. He wants to lacerate them into little pieces, but he knows these are not the only copies. “Why would she sign this?”

“Because she cares about you,” Tony said, not even noticing his slip up.

“Cared,” Peter corrected, all anger sinking away. He was too tired. Too sad. He couldn't be angry, not now, not when he didn't have a choice.

Because, honestly, what can he do? Is he going to live on the streets rather than stay here? If he leaves, he’ll have the police and CPS at his throat. He couldn't go anywhere without being harassed.

But Peter can't stay here. Not with Tony. Not with the man he's respected since he was a child.

He can't stay with the man who treats him like a worthless employee.

Yeah, it's kinda like that. The boss? You know the one, the cliche? The one who doesn't care for the “lousy teens” that work for him or her. The boss pushes them to their limit and then some. Work them until the bone until they quit.

But people like Peter? They mix with the Boss in a horrible away. Kids like Peter who respect their boss will do anything to stay loyal, to be helpful. For so long that's what Peter was, and it's taken so much nagging from Ned for him to realize.

So Peter settles. He leans back into the couch. He's here with his untouchable Boss, who treated him like shit. And it hurts. It hurts a lot because here he is, caring, having a heart, and it stings at Peter’s eyes.

Tony Stark cares, like he never did before.

And, well, Peter doesn't know what the hell he’s going to do with that.


	2. I'm only home if I'm with you

Peter had always suspected one day things were going to go south. He always knew one day his identity would be found, there would be a breach in the system, and his loved ones would be endangered. He was prepared for that. He was prepared to fight to his last breath to protect his friends.

 

Peter has grown stronger over the time he’s been Spider-Man. He’s suffered gunshots, torture, kidnappings, and the cruelest of beatings. Still, none of this compares to the moment he stepped through his bedroom door to find his Aunt in a room she would never remember the purpose of. 

 

When Peter saw her again, she looked better. She looked rested. Peter never realized how much she worried about him, how much sleep he cost her. 

 

Peter volunteered at the nursing home from time to time. Sometimes he’d give the elderly sponge baths, fluff their pillows, clean the floors, and even break up fights. Some of the more energetic ones would play chess with him. 

 

Between his actual paying job, his spot on the Avengers, school, and social life, Peter was busy enough. However, he had to take this job. He had to volunteer. He had to spend every extra minute in the day here because at this home is the only time he’ll see his aunt. 

 

“Hey, Peter,” Michelle greeted, approaching him suddenly. She closed a book with a pop and slid it into her bag. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh, uh, volunteering,” he replied, quickly stepping away from his spot. He had not been spying on his aunt. For sure. “What about you?”

 

“I was visiting my uncle,” she replied. “When did you start working here?” She squinted her eyes.

 

“I just like to pop in every once in awhile,” he lied.

 

“Oh! Peter,” a new person greeted, an older man. “Did you come to see your aunt?”

 

Michelle furrowed her eyebrows. “Marty, no,” Peter seethed. “I don’t have an aunt. Shoo.” 

 

Marty frowned. “Young man, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re mocking your aunt. Alzheimer’s is not something to joke about.”

 

“That’s enough out of you,” Peter snarled, not unkindly, and the 20-year-old Marty scampered off. He turned to face an unimpressed MJ.

 

“Why lie, Peter?” Untrusting eyes.

 

“Reasons,” he mumbled. 

 

“Is your masculinity that fragile? Can’t admit you’re visiting a family member?” she teased.

 

He snorted. “Yeah, that’s it,” he said, not meaning it. “That’s me. Manly man Peter Parker.” 

 

“Manly man Peter Parker volunteers at a nursing home in his spare time,” she mused. “Very manly indeed.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So what is it really?” He acted like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “You’re fidgeting.”

 

“When did you learn to read people?”

 

“Nuh-uh, you’re not changing the subject,” she said. “Peter, what’s wrong?”

 

He sighed. “You know what it’s like to look at someone you’ve spent your entire life with, and they look at you and… they have no clue who you are? Cause that sucks. That really sucks.”

 

“Yeah, I get it.” She crossed her arms. “I get it.” 

 

“The last time she saw me, she got really mad. Like, really, really mad. Actually, she thought I broke into her house,” he laughed, despite the strong pain in his chest. “Little did she know I lived there, and, you know, that she raised me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. I just like to check in on her. I may not be able to visit soon.”

 

“Peter,” Michelle said, leaning in. “I’m always here for--”

 

“Peter!” 

 

Oh. 

 

Oh no. 

 

“I gotta go! I’ll see you later.”

 

“Peter!”

 

Peter sprinted out of the nursing home, jumping over a man in a wheelchair. He was out the door under three seconds. Michelle would’ve been in shock over the record time alone. However, she was more astonished by Tony Stark chasing after him. 

 

Peter was scrambling for his phone. He threw it up to his ear as he ran. He punched in a number, and it picked up instantly. “I need help!”

 

“Man in the chair emergency?” Ned Leeds asked, anxious on the other end of the phone.

 

“No, Peter Parker emergency. I have a very angry boss on my trail. Can I crash at your place?”

 

Ned hummed. “Lemme ask my mom.” He pulled the phone away from his mouth, hollered at his mother, then pulled the phone back. “She said yes.” He snorted. “Like she was going to say no.”

 

“Good.” There was a knocking at his window. Ned swiveled over to his window. “Cause I’m already here.” Peter slipped inside once Ned opened it for him. “Man, it’s cold out.”

 

Peter fell back on Ned’s bed. “What’d you do to piss Tony off?” Ned asked. 

 

Peter turned over on his side. “He wants me to live with him,” he replied briefly, pulling the comforters over him. 

 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Ned asked, scooting into his desk. He fiddled with some legos.

 

“Yeah, it’s a bad thing,” Peter said in a ‘duh’ voice. “Who wants to live with their boss? Not me.”

 

“Well, if my boss was a billionaire,” Ned said.

 

Peter grabbed a Spider-Man plushie on the edge of the bed. He grinned at it, actually touched. He chucked it at Ned’s head, plucking a hurt “ow” from him. “Can I live with you?” Peter laughed. “I mean, you’d basically be storing a fugitive.” Legally, his place of residency is the Avengers Compound. 

 

“Sorry, but I don’t think so. I don’t want the Avengers coming after me for kidnapping you,” he said. “But there’s nothing wrong with sleepovers? So no laws broken, right?”

 

“Right,” Peter chorused. “This is kind of a sucky sleepover as I’m falling asleep. It’s been a long time since we’ve really hung out. You know, outside of school and Spider-Man.”

 

Ned blinked a couple times. “School and Spider-Man is, like, your entire life.” 

 

“Oh.” Peter rolled over. “Good night, Ned.”

 

Later in the night, Ned slipped into the bed. His friend was curled up into a ball. His fists clenched the comforters in a death grip. He was shaking. 

 

Ned knew better than to wake him. After all, this isn’t the first time this has happened. He knows about the nightmares. 

 

“It’s okay, Peter,” he soothed to the thriving man. Peter rolled over then, leaning in close to Ned. He was pressed up against him, and the shaking ceased. “This. Is. So. Gay.” He smiled, then fell asleep. 

 

When his alarm sounded in the morning, Peter shot up. A rosy pink blush dusted his cheeks as he realized he was practically snuggling with Ned the entire night. Ned doesn’t mention it, though. Peter waits for a playful tease, but one never comes. He’s grateful for that.

 

“Do you need to borrow a shirt?” he asked. “I still have some you’ve left at other sleepovers.” He chucked a faded tee with some abstract science pun on the front. Peter catches it.

 

“Thanks,” he says. 

 

Ned grabs his own clothes. “You can go ahead and change in the bathroom—” he stopped short. He dropped the shoes in his hand when he noticed Peter was already stripping. 

 

_ Gay.  _

 

“Sorry,” Peter apologized with a laugh. “Kind of in a hurry.” 

 

Ned put his hand over his chest. “Oh, so that’s how it is.” 

 

Peter slipped the sweatshirt over his head. “What?” 

 

“I’m your one night stand,” he seethed. “Just go, Peter. Get out.” There was no venom in his voice. 

 

Peter fixed his hair in Ned’s bedroom mirror. “You know I would stay if I could. It’s not safe for me to be on the streets right now.” 

 

Peter finally slips on his Spider-Man suit over all his clothes. He cracks the window open. “See you at school.” Peter slips out the window. He’s gone. 

 

Just about the time Peter left, Ned’s doorbell rang. His mother, who was about to leave for work, opened the door. Ned raced to the window. Sure enough, outside, Tony Stark stood. 

 

____________________

 

So this isn’t a good idea. Basically. 

 

Not a single part of this is sensible in the slightest bit, but what Peter wants Peter gets. And Peter wants to visit his home. His real home. 

 

The street is quiet. The only sound echoing in the neighborhood is the dog across from Peter’s home. This is where he lived. 

 

He knows Tony’s going to sell it. There’s no reason to keep it. Peter’s not going to live there. 

 

He anxiously looks around for any sign of Tony, Happy, or one of their employees. There’s no one in sight. 

 

He sneaks through the back of the house. Upon entering, an alarm starts to go off. When Peter first started being Spider-Man, he knew villains would come after May. He himself stalled the systems in the house. 

 

The house was almost empty. The kitchen was packed away in boxes. Everything was sorted out, from keep and selling. This seemed to fuel Peter’s anger more. The fact that  _ Tony  _ thinks he knows what is significant to Peter, what Peter needs to keep. This isn’t his stuff. It’s May’s. It’s not Tony’s. Tony is Iron Man; Tony is Tony Stark. Did he have the time to sift through all these boxes? Who did this? Some intern? Some employee? 

 

Sudden realization shook him by the shoulders. 

 

If this is what the kitchen looked like, what state was his room in? 

 

Peter sprinted up the stairs and threw the door to his bedroom open. 

 

It was completely empty. Not a single box, not a single clothing item, not a single comic, not a single piece of furniture, not a piece of dust. It was empty. 

 

He walked into May’s room. 

 

Her furniture was there, as always. Her clothing was missing, but that wasn’t a shock. Most of it had gone with her. A couple cardigans remained in the back. He picked them up. 

 

_ She’s going to get cold _ , he thought to himself. He stuffed them into his bag.

 

There was an old box on her bed. It wasn’t one of the boxes from Tony’s doing. It was an old green box that Peter recognized. 

 

His lips were dry. He swallowed spit before breaking open the box. 

 

It was empty. 

 

The green storage box used to be for clothing a long time ago. Somehow it turned into the photo box. It was piled high with family albums, as well as loose pictures. 

 

There wasn’t anything in there anymore. 

 

Peter circled the room. He pulled out an old box out of her closet. He had hoped to find something — he’s not really sure of what he was looking for, but he  _ was  _ looking — when his Spidey Sense screamed at him. 

 

He jumped on the ceiling as a sleep dart whistles past him. 

 

Natasha stood in the doorway. “Oh, no,” she said in a clearly apathetic voice. “I missed. How careless of me.” 

 

If Natasha wanted to catch him, she would’ve done it by now. He dropped to the floor. 

 

“Hi, Nat,” he greeted, smiling. She embraced him in a hug. Peter pulled back after a couple moments. “Did Tony send you?” 

 

Spidey Sense again. 

 

Wait… Why would Natasha be on his side right now? 

 

There was an intrusion in his back, and Peter fell to the ground. 

 

He sputtered out a few curses while scrambling on his knees. His hands reached behind him and grasped at the sleep dart stuck in his back. He ripped it out. 

 

“How are you still conscious?” Bruce groaned loudly. 

 

“Backstabber,” Peter groaned, letting the sleep dart fall to the floor. “Et tu, Brutus?” He quoted. 

 

Natasha grinned. She was the decoy. “Ah, Shakespeare now. Just last week it was Poe.” 

 

“Can it, traitors,” Peter groped. “Why are you doing Tony’s dirty work?” 

 

Natasha scooped him up off the floor. She pulled some handcuffs out of her bag, and she had started to cuff him. Before she could do that, Peter spun and kicked the handcuffs out of her hand. 

 

Normally Peter would leave with a witty retort on his lips, but he was silent when he slipped through the window and was engulfed in the harsh winter air. 

 

Peter glanced at his watch, and he high tailed it over to the high school. Barely making it in time before the doors were locked, Peter let out a sigh of relief. He got his stuff out of his bag and sauntered into his first block. 

 

Ned was biting his lip. “Hey, you okay?” Peter greeted, dropping his stuff down by the seat next to Ned. 

 

“Yeah,” he said, yawning. “Just nervous for this test, you know?” 

 

Peter looked up to the whiteboard. “We don’t have a test today,” he said. “Wait. Do we have a test today?” 

 

A paper ball hit Peter in the face. Behind him, Michelle was blowing a piece of gum. She barely acknowledged his existence. He unfolded the paper ball. It read: “LOSER” 

 

“Michelle, you’re not even  _ in  _ this class. What are you—” 

 

“Ow!” 

 

Peter looked over suddenly. Ned was clutching his stomach. “Ned? What’s wrong?” 

 

“My stomach started hurting  _ really  _ bad,” Ned groaned, curling in on himself. His hands flew up to cover his mouth. 

 

Peter lifted his hand over his shoulder and helped Ned out of his chair. “May I take Ned to the nurse’s office?” The teacher gave a curt reply and told him to hurry.

 

Once out in the hallway, Peter used his superhero strength to change his grip on Ned. Peter carried Ned down the hallway bridal style. 

 

He set Ned down to slip the door open. All the lights were off. “Um, hello? Is the nurse here?” 

 

Peter helped Ned to sit on a bed. Beads of sweat covered his face. “Are you okay, Ned?” He put a hand to his head. “You’re not running a fever…”

 

Then, his spidey sense started screaming at him, and his grip tightened on Ned. “Ned? Ned, tell me what’s wrong?” Ned tensed. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Ned said, and he didn’t wince at the slam of a door. 

 

“Why?” Peter started to ask, but his spidey sense was screaming again. He didn’t have to turn around to know who was behind him. Peter jumped to the left as a dart whizzed past him. Iron Man’s gauntlet was pointed at him, but he jumped over him. He was about to kick down the door when he spotted Michelle on the other side. Her back was pressed up against it. “Getting a couple of kids to do your dirty work, Mr. Stark?”

 

“This is what you call dirty work?” Tony tsked. “I’m not the bad guy here.” His repulsor had Peter pinned. With Michelle on the other side of the door, Peter couldn’t make any superhero moves. He was trapped. There was nothing he could do.

 

“I had to, Peter,” Ned said suddenly. “I couldn’t let you go on like that…”

 

“You can stomp and drag your feet all you want, but you’re still coming home with me,” Tony promised. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

 

A few moments passed. Peter crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. 

 

“Fine. Have it your way.”

 

Peter burst out the door suddenly. Michelle was waving her finger. “Peter, no!” He was already sprinting. 

 

A few of his classmates lingered in the hall. He had no choice but to slow down. His identity was at stake.

 

Soon enough, Iron Man’s heavy footsteps had caught up with him. Peter was thrown like a ragdoll over his shoulder. “Bye, Peter! Please don’t hate me for that!” Ned waved with a confused Michelle at his side.

 

____________________

 

“Class, please get out the homework from last night.” The teacher uncapped her expo marker. The door creaked open. She copied down some of the problems up on the board. “Parker, since you took your sweet time coming back to my class, you can go ahead and answer number one for us.”

 

“Actually, Peter’s coming with me.” In the doorway of the class stood Iron Man with an unconscious Peter Parker slung over his shoulder. He picked up Peter’s stuff and threw it over his other shoulder. 

 

The teacher was speechless. If she was going to say something, it was too late anyways. The door had already shut, and Iron Man was gone as well was two of her students.

 

Iron Man arrived at the compound a short time later. Upon entrance, the sleeping teenager had already started to stir in his arms. 

 

“Those sleeping darts really don’t do much for you,” Tony said as he walked through one of the busier floors. “Gotta up the dosage.”

 

Peter was too tired to run. His eyes slowly opened. Yawning, his arm started to stretch out before it fell limp. “No…”

 

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have to use them if you weren’t so difficult,” Tony griped. 

 

“Let me go, please,” Peter mumbled. “I gotta go home.”

 

Tony bit his lip. “Peter, we’ve been over this…”

 

In his hazy state, Peter continued to ramble. “Aunt May’s going to be mad at me... “ He winced. “I can’t be late for dinner again.” Tony ignored it. Some of the passing workers stopped to stare, but he continued to walk to the elevator. “She’s cooking my favorite…” Peter made a sound similar to a growl. 

 

“She’ll be mad,” he mumbled. “I gotta go.”

 

Tony stepped into the elevator. He punched a button, then waited.

 

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Tony apologized quietly. “I’m sorry this is how things turned out.”

 

The teenager started to writhe around suddenly. The door to the elevator opened, and Tony carried Peter into his bedroom. He tucked the blanket over him. A hand shot out and grabbed the hard metal of his suit. “Please… Aunt May, don’t go.”

 

Tony stayed. When he left half an hour later, there were frozen tears on his cheek. 


	3. And the World Went Round Again When You Returned

 

Bruce had half expected Tony to already be in the lab. 75% of the time that’s where he is. More often than not, there’s some experiment being conducted. It’s not uncommon for Tony to be up in the lab in the middle of the night.

Sometimes he just gets a hunch. He gets an odd shiver running up his spine, then he knows for sure he’s in there again. Sometimes FRIDAY is the one to say something. She used to, alot, until Tony reprogrammed her. Sometimes he’ll hear him. Other times, Peter is the one who comes to him. It’s been a while since Peter or FRIDAY said something. This time, it’s due to his gut that he travels down to the lab at three in the morning.

Bruce stepped into the lab. Although he didn’t feel unwelcomed, he felt completely ignored. Tony was sitting in a chair. He was slumped against it, and he stared off out his window. “Whatever it is, it can wait until morning,” Bruce said. He leaned against the doorframe.

It could wait until morning, most likely. However, that’s not how Tony sees things. He’s wired like a mad scientist. “Or I can help,” Bruce offered, knowing that finishing whatever project he’s working on is the only way to get him to sleep.

Tony’s face is contorted at the sides. His mouth gaped. Deep in thought, he pondered. After a few long seconds, Tony spoke, “Maybe it’s steak.”

Bruce blinked a couple of times. “What?” He crossed his arms. “You hungry?”

“Pizza?” Tony asked. “Teenagers like pizza, don’t they?” With that, it all makes sense. Peter. It’s always Peter. Bruce should’ve known. “How the hell am I supposed to know what his favorite food is?” he groaned.

It’s kinda silly. Tony keeping himself up at night just trying to figure out a sixteen-year-old’s favorite food. Funny. “You could ask him,” Bruce advised.

Tony hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah, I guess.” He stood up.

Bruce stopped him. “Ask him in the morning?” Bruce tapped his watch and showed Tony the time. That snuck a grin from Tony. “Good night, Tony.”

Tony waved at him back, then left. “Good night, Bruce.”

Tony didn’t sleep.

He stood outside Peter’s room. “Good night, Peter.” He talked, even though Peter is knocked out on sleeping pills. “Sweet dreams.”

On the other side of the door, Peter had been attempting to hack the firewall on his room’s security. Upon hearing Tony, he stopped. His voice was very soft, careful not to awake him. Peter wouldn’t have heard him if he was asleep. He was wide awake, though. “I don’t want you to be like me. I want you to be better,” he seethed. “Sleep. Just. Sleep.”

Peter hates Tony right now. He used to idolize him, but now when he looks at him he is filled with uncontrollable anger. However, when Tony speaks it’s so sincere that Peter closed the laptop. He set it on his nightstand. With the covers pulled over him, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

_________________________________________

In the morning, Tony didn’t want to knock. It was different from last night. He couldn’t find any words to say. If he did know, he didn’t have the courage to say them. In fact, he would’ve stood there for hours if it wasn’t for the thump inside of the room. Following the odd sound was a low shriek.

“Peter?” Tony called, knocking. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied back in a monotone voice. He paused. “...Can you unlock the door?”

Tony did, and as soon as it was open Peter surfaced. His forehead was red. “Did you trip?” Tony resisted the urge to grin. He could be so clumsy.

Peter bit his lip. “Something like that.” The urge to grin faded when he saw the cracks in the glass. It was on purpose. He was trying to escape.

“I’m trying to make this work,” Tony managed. “Breakfast?”

Right on cue, Peter’s stomach let out a loud growl. A rosy pink blush dusted his cheeks. “Okay,” he mumbled and followed Tony out the door.

Most of the others were already awake. Sam was cooking. “What’s on the menu today?” Sure, Tony had all the money at his fingertips and all the staff to make him luxurious food, but he would much rather have Sam’s homemade cooking everytime.

“Wheatcakes,” Sam replied.

Peter gasped. “My favorite!” he chirped. Tony froze.

“Wheatcakes?” Tony echoed. “That was it? Wheatcakes?”

“And what’s wrong with wheatcakes?” Peter retorted.

“Nothing,” was Tony’s curt reply.

Silence fell over the kitchen. “Hey, wait a second,” Clint groaned. “If spider-kid is living beneath me, he better not make a ruckus. You hear me? Don’t stomp on the ceiling. I’m saying this now because I know you will.”

Peter smiled. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

Silence. Again.

This was dreadful. Natasha slammed down her cup of orange juice. “What kind of immature children are you two?” she exclaimed. “Talk it out. I’m going to go read my book.” She walked through the communal area of the compound. This is for the Avengers, specifically, and it contains a bathroom, a living room, a dining area, and a kitchen. Natasha was seated peacefully in the living room. Peter and Tony were left to silently glare at each other.

“I’m with Nat,” Clint said, following her. He sat on the loveseat and turned on the news. Bruce slipped away silently.

Sam awkwardly stood. He was in the middle of cooking. “Guys? Guys! Don’t leave me alone in this!” It was a pointless distress call. They weren’t listening.

Peter crossed his arms. Tony sighed. “Fine. I’m the mature adult here anyways,” he said. “I know raging teenage hormones make moving into a new household suck, but it’s not like I’m a stranger.”

“What?”

“Losing May must’ve been tough, and it’s making it hard for you to trust me,” he continued.

“You think that’s why I’m mad?” Peter’s voice was quiet. “That’s not… I can’t believe you.”

“Then tell me! Why are you mad?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m letting you off the hook,” Peter said. “I don’t know what Aunt May said to you to make you sign that contract, but I’m telling you you’re off the hook. Whatever promise you made to her, it doesn’t matter. I can take care of myself.”

He ran away. Again.

He had no arguement to make. There was an unexplained pit in his stomach. He couldn’t explain why it was there if you asked him.

“Well?” Steve asked. “Aren’t you going to go after him?”

____________________________________

It wasn’t like that.

The rain doesn’t affect him. He has his Iron Man suit to protect him from the heavy rain. Peter doesn’t. He’s out here somewhere.

I don’t make half-ass promises.

All alone.

Especially ones I can’t keep.

“You’re going to catch a cold!” he shouted. If there was a response, it was drowned in the rain. “Peter, please come home.”

FRIDAY told him his heat signature was only a few feet away. Peter had climbed up a tree and hid himself inside of its branches.

“I don’t know why you think I made that promise. But you know that I wouldn’t make a promise like that to someone on their deathbed, right?”

“She’s not dying,” Peter retorted. “Not physically, anyways.”

Tony was startled at his sudden reply. It’s progress. “I made it because I... “ he trailed off. “I told her… I said because I… Well, you know, you could’ve ended up someplace bad, and why wouldn’t I? I care about you too much.” He sighed. A silent relief that he finally said it washed over him.

“You still don’t get it.”

Tony huffed. “Then let me understand.”

Peter was silent.

“Spider-man, Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can,” Tony started to sing, horribly off key.

“Stop,” Peter warned.

“Can he swing from a web?”

“Mr. Stark, please, cut it out,” he whined, but a tiny giggle worked its way in there.

Tony smiled. He leaned against a tree. “Ah, there it is. I think this is the only time I’ve been happy to hear you call me that,” he said. “Why are you mad, Peter?” Silence. “If you don’t say, I’ll start singing again.”

Peter sighed. “You… You weren’t there.”

Thunder struck. “When she first left, you weren’t there.”

Peter hugged his knees to his chest. “Why weren’t you there?”

“I’m here now,” Tony said, and he hoped with all his heart that was good enough. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at… this. I’m not good at… people.”

Peter snickered. “No kidding.” He let the rain fall on his face. “I knew that.” He shivered in the cold. “You knew, though, and you didn’t come.”

“I don’t have an excuse. I’m sorry, Peter. I really am.”

“Yeah.” He picked a leaf off a branch. “Still, someone could’ve told me you adopted me. Would’ve been nice to know.”

“‘Adopt’ is a strong word. We don’t have to look at it that way. I’m just your guardian, if that’s how you want to look at it.”

“Okay,” Peter said. That was all he said: “okay.” Somehow, though, that was enough for Tony. He took a sigh out of relief.

“Haha,” Tony teased. “You have to live with your boss.”

“Shut up,” Peter snarled back but it wasn’t filled with venom. His voice was playful.

“But seriously let’s head back, alright?” Tony suggested.

“No,” Peter whined. “Let me be a moody teenager for a little while longer.”

Tony tapped his foot. “No more wild goose chases.”

“Don’t need to run. You can’t find me.”

Tony groaned. He took a few steps forward and kicked a tree.

“Ow!” Peter screeched. “If you knew I was here, why didn’t you just kick me out in the first place?”

He sighed. “I’m done forcing you to do stuff you don’t want to.” Peter dropped out of the tree. His face was red and puffy. “Let’s go home.”

When they got back to the compound, it was dinner time. Sam was cooking pasta at the stovetop. “Need any help?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “From you? No thanks,” Sam teased.

Tony rolled his eyes, but honestly he didn’t want to help. Peter made himself cozy on the couch. Clint’s PlayStation was still on, and Peter started playing a couple video games.

Tony couldn’t help but smile. He wonders when was the last time he’s gotten to really enjoy being a kid. He takes a seat at the island and starts scrolling through his tablet.

“FRIDAY, can you raise the temperature in here?” Tony asked.

Sam made a face. “Dude.”

“I don’t want him getting sick,” Tony said.

Sam smirked. “You’ve changed so much, Tony.” He stirred the pasta. “Look at you now. Such a dad.”

“Shut up!” he hushed, embarrassed. “I’m not a dad.”

“Oh, really?” Natasha teased, startling everyone in the room. She slipped a bookmark into her novel and set it down on the table. “Then who exactly is Peter to you?”

Peter stared intently at Tony. “What? That’s a weird question…” Peter was in relentless. Even if he didn’t say so, he wanted to know the answer. “He’s a trusty employee… my prodigee?”

Peter might’ve been disappointed. He looked away from Tony, then, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “How about you, Peter?” Natasha asked.

Peter clucked his lips.“Mr. Stark said so himself. Adopt is a strong word.”

“So you don’t view him as a dad?” Tony was staring. Sam was staring. Steve, Clint, and Bruce who were watching silently in the doorway like the creeps they are were staring. Natasha was smiling.

“No.” Peter’s answer was blunt, at best. “I’ve never had a dad, so I don’t get the appeal.” He fumbled with his thumbs. “Mr. Stark is Mr. Stark. That’s who he is to me.”

Tony was at a loss. His eyes were wet. “Oh,” he said simply.

“What?” Peter looked up to see everyone in awe at him. Rosy pink dusted his cheeks. “What’s the matter with all of you?”

“It’s good to have you home, Peter.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this one!! If you liked, please leave a comment!! And feel free to check out any of my other fics if you’d like! :)


	4. a short little filler chapter not important to the plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chappie is kinda useless and i just wrote it bc i had a lil tiny idea that i wanted to upload before all the dark stuff happens... because a lot of bad shit is about to hit the fan and i wanted peter to have a good time before that came

So Peter started living in the compound. Things went along about as good as you’d expect. It took Peter some adjustment, but he actually liked living in a busy home. He missed his aunt more and more every day, but it became less painful over time. 

 

“Hey, Mr. Stark?” Peter inquired one afternoon. Tony paused his conversation with some of the scientists in his lab. 

 

“Oh, Peter, you’re home super early,” Tony noted. “What’s up?” 

 

“We had exams this week, so it was a half day,” he explained with a dry mouth. “Um, so, you moved all the stuff from my old house, right?” Tony nodded. “Where is all of it?” 

 

“Most of it is on your level of the house,” Tony said. “Some of it went to your Aunt, and the rest was sold. Were you looking for something?” 

 

“Uh, no, I was just curious…” He ran off before Tony could ask any more questions. 

 

Back on his level, Peter explored the hallway. He’d never gotten a chance to fully look at the compound, as he’s still getting used to living here. 

 

The living quarters are separate from everything else. Even the Avengers housing is far from everything else. When Peter found out not only was he getting a gigantic room but an entire level, he was astonished. He lives on the top. 

 

He ransacked his closet. There was the old boxes from May’s room, some childhood clothing, a lot of books and old video games, but Peter couldn’t find what he was looking for. 

 

But Tony said everything was here. Which means if it isn’t here… it must be with his aunt. 

 

The cold air burned his skin as he hurried away. The compound is isolated, so he can’t really web sling out of there. He sprints towards the closest bus station. He hitched a ride on top. 

 

There was only one lady at the desk once he entered the nursing home. Despite him being in his lonesome, he felt eyes on him. 

 

“Um, hi, I’m here to visit May Parker.” 

 

She was already nodded. She knew Peter. He used to come here a lot. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you back there.” 

 

“I won’t say anything to try and trigger her memory. I just needed to look through some of her old stuff.” 

 

The woman took pity on him. “Okay…” 

 

A few minutes later Peter was dressed head to toe in a janitor uniform. He walked down the hallway through the foul stench. It didn’t take him long to spot May. 

 

She was dancing. A dozen elderly folk were seated in their wheelchairs around the room. May stood on her feet and she waltzed by herself to Glenn Miller softly playing in the background. “This song was on Doctor Who once,” Peter said, forgetting for a moment where he was. He stifled his voice, but May had already heard. 

 

“Doctor Who? Isn’t that the weird British show?” she asked, still dancing. “Harold watches that all the time. Don’t you, Harold?” She hollered at an old man (presumably Harold) Who was glaring at a painting on the wall. “Nerds.” 

 

“Nerd? I’m not—” Peter stopped right there. He knew he was. 

 

“And what are you exactly, young man?” May asked, smiling. “You can’t be older than 17, and you’re a janitor. Why in heaven on earth are you working  _ here _ ?” 

 

“I’m fifteen, actually,” Peter admitted. 

 

“Even worse. Kids your age shouldn’t be working for money. They should be helping their parents out. Or studying hard.” 

 

Peter smiled wryly. “You’re completely right.” He turned to walk away. “Have a Merry Christmas.” He threw it over his shoulder as he left. May continued to dance. 

 

“And a happy new year!” She hollered back, twirling in a circle. 

 

Peter pushed the cart into May’s room. He shut the door behind him. His hair fell in his face, and he shook away a single tear. He gripped on tight to the doorknob. 

 

He fell to his knees in her closet. He sorted through all the stuff. There was nothing there. Just clothes. He picked up one last green box. He cracked it open. Inside was some old figurines, some necklaces, a stuffed animal, and a photo album. He picked it up. 

 

The first page was a picture of May and Ben on their wedding day. There were more pictures of them too. On vacation, having dinner, dancing. There were a lot. He took a picture of them off of his phone. 

 

There was one photo of him. Maybe getting May remember Peter was too painful… 

 

Peter was holding up a big medal. He had gotten second place at the science fair. Flash had taken first place from a volcano. Typical. Ben and May were still proud. 

 

Still, it wasn’t what he was looking for. Peter shut the album and set it inside. As he was leaving, he stole one last look at May. Then, he slipped out into the snowy weather of New York. 

 

The snow was not very kind to Peter. He was slowed to almost a druglike effect. He didn’t return home later until after a long Spider-Man patrol. 

 

Peter slipped into the lab. He’s shaking from the cold when he was standing in front of Tony. “Where is it?” Peter’s face was red from embarrassment and the cold. 

 

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Tony noted, dropping his current experiment. 

 

“...” Peter paused, shaking his head. “There’s a chest from my old house, but I can’t find it. It’s like a toy chest.” 

 

Tony tapped his chin. “I went through everything there myself, Peter. I don’t remember…” Realization dawned in on him. “I do remember finding some toys, though. What did I do with those, FRIDAY?” 

 

“The box you are referring to is located on the seventh floor of the human resource building,” she replied.

 

“What’s it doing there—?” Peter was vanished by the time Tony completed his question. Peter sprinted at full speed, not caring who saw him out of his Spider-Man suit. He reached the building, and because the night kept him hidden, he spider crawled up to the seventh floor. He slipped through an open window, one an employee mistakenly had kept open in the cold. 

 

On the floor was a small break room. Sure enough, there was Peter’s box. (Little did anyone know, the box was brought here on accident. One of the newlywed employees had brought his child with him, and he had no clue that these toys were in Tony’s custody. Besides, what would he have been doing with a bunch of toys?) 

 

Peter scrambled to the latch and he rummage through the box. Some McDonald’s toys, nerf guns, Star Wars figures, some zip lock baggies of legos, and some littlest pet shop sifted through his fingers. Finally, he pulled out a stuffed figure. 

 

“So that’s what you were looking for?” 

 

Peter’s spider sense is useless against Tony. A painful reminder that he’s grown attached to him. 

 

“No,” he lied, throwing it to the ground. “I was looking for my legos.” 

 

Tony kneeled down to pick up the stuffed figure. A small grin spread across his face as he examined the Iron Man plushie. It was a cute little stuffed toy, obviously intended for a younger child. 

 

Peter pushed past Tony. Tony grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back. He held the Iron Man baby toy to Peter. He scrunched up his nose in return. “I don’t want it,” he mumbled, leaving. 

 

Tony sighed.  _ “Teenagers.”  _

 

Tony left the toy on the desk in his lab. The next afternoon, it was gone. 

 

________________________

 

_ After the night of Stark Expo where Peter first saw Iron Man up close, he had grown into an Iron Man obsession. He had Iron Man comics, posters, blankets, etc. But his favorite out of all of it was a present from his Aunt and Uncle on his ninth birthday.  _

 

_ “Happy Birthday, Peter,” Uncle Ben praised, kissing Peter on the forehead. He handed him the stuffed toy which Peter clutched on to like his life depended on it.  _

 

_ “Thank you!” Peter hugged the toy to his chest.  _

 

_ Up in his room, gazing out at the moon with the toy pressed against his chest, Peter made a promise that only the night sky and a shooting star would be a witness to. “I wish I could be a hero. Like Iron Man.”  _

 

Tony may never understand the endearment of the toy to Peter, but he does know with the look he gives him that Peter idolizes him. 


	5. the big empty blue

  
  
  


After a while of living in the tower, Peter stopped sleeping. He could stay up as long as he wanted to on his Spider-Man patrols, and by the time he got home he had a lot of work piling up for him to do. Yet, after going through all his worksheets, and memorizing his textbook front to back, he still couldn’t fall asleep. 

 

And it’s not that he wasn’t  _ tired,  _ because oh, God, was he tired. Yet, no matter what, his eyelids wouldn’t close more than a second, and he never slept. 

 

Soon enough, morning would come. He’d be out by four. Breakfast is offered to him, but he never accepts. He always leaves. 

 

He goes into the library every morning for some studying that he doesn’t need. The second his bag drops to the floor, he slumps down in the chair, and he falls asleep. He’ll stay like that for a while, until Michelle comes and nudges him awake. If it wasn’t for that first time she saw him there, she wouldn’t have routinely came in every day before school to check. Of course, he’s always there, always fast asleep. And of course, she’s always there too, to gently tap his shoulders. She doesn’t shake him; she doesn’t yell. However, today she brought an air horn. 

 

Peter didn’t yelp. Michelle would tell you otherwise. “What the hell?” he hissed, wiping the tired off his face. “Why would you do that to me?” 

 

“You weren’t waking up,” she shrugged. She cackled, grabbing at her sides from laughing so hard. “Man, Peter, I would wake you up like that everyday if I could. But I won’t. Promise.” She was still laughing.

 

Peter groaned. “Okay, fine, that’s on me,” he said. “But  _ please  _ don’t you dare do that again.” 

 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d sleep at home,” she said. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in a funny little way, which normally would’ve made Peter smile, but the stern glare of concern on her face kept him from grinning. 

 

“I promise I’ll rest tonight.”

 

…

 

Well, that was a big fat lie.

 

Peter had actually  _ planned  _ to stay true to his word. Is that what he did? No. No, he isn’t. 

 

Peter’s hair was getting a bit long. Strands of brown hair dangled in front of his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he brushed it back with his sweaty palms. Despite being in a pair of boxers and a gray tank top, he was covered head-to-toe in sweat. It was suffocating. He pulled at his collar. 

 

He span around in his chair. He sat, propped up on his toes, chin resting on his knees. An unfinished rough draft sat on his desk. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get the words right. His head was too scrambled. 

 

3:32. Peter has to go out on patrol in two hours, and he still has an essay to finish. The flashing red on the clock sends more shivers down his spine. He sits up, picks up his pencil, but he can’t bring himself to write down anything. Occasionally, he’ll manage a sentence, but as soon as he does, he reads back over it only to find it makes no sense. 

 

He’s drowning. 

 

Peter’s eyes closed shut on him. His body fell forward, crashing into the desk. He didn’t move. 

 

When his eyes did finally flutter open, he sat up in his bed. Rays of sunlight poured in through his window. The curtains were open; outside, there was a pretty little blue bird perched on his patio. 

 

His eyes didn’t sting like they usually did. Arms raised over his head, he let out a yawn. “Morning,” he mumbled, hugging his stuffed Iron Man. He picked up a stuffed bunny next, nuzzling it to his cheek. Then, he dropped it on his bed, and jumped up in the air. 

 

Bursting through his door, he sauntered down his hallway. Peter never did get a chance to explore his new home. He’s been too busy protesting actually living here. 

 

He was peeking down his mini-kitchen when his watch beeped at him. “Hello?” he answered. 

 

“Peter, oh, thank god.” Ned’s voice sighed out of relief.

 

Peter grabbed the box of eggos out of his freezer. “Nice to hear from you too, Ned?” he guessed, smiling. 

 

“Bro, you haven’t answered any of my texts.” 

 

“Uh, sorry, I was asleep,” Peter apologized, plopping the eggos in his toaster. “School doesn’t start until another hour.” 

 

“Peter…”

 

“But don’t worry! I finished my essay!” he cheered, pumping his fist into the air. “I fell asleep while writing it, but it was so worth it.”

 

“You do know it’s Saturday, right?”

 

…

 

“Haha,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I knew that…” 

 

Ned chuckled, uncertain. “Okay,” he mumbled, changing the subject. “Wanna hang out today?” 

 

“‘Kay,” Peter said, rubbing his eyes. 

 

“We can finish the lego phantom at your place—“ 

 

“No!” Peter’s sudden exclamation caused Ned to fall silent. “Uh, I mean,  _ no thanks _ . Let’s go out somewhere? Anywhere, really.” He took a deep breath, then lowered his voice. “Anywhere but here.” If Ned heard the last part, he didn’t say so. 

 

“Coffee?” 

 

Peter grinned. “Hell yeah.” 

 

Peter slung his casual backpack on. “See you soon,” they chorused, and then hung up. 

 

Peter, in a rush to get out of the house, slid into the yellow crocs in his room. He scrambled out the door. 

 

“Peter—” Tony called, “Where are you—?” 

 

“ _ Out _ , Tony! I’m going  _ out _ !” Peter yelled back, a huge grin on his face. Tony stared back, confused. Peter settled down. “I’ve been cooped up in here way too long, man…” He put his hands in his pajama pants’s pocket. “So, uh, what are you doing here?” 

 

“Oh, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to join us for breakfast, but I see you’re—… Peter?” 

 

Peter’s smile had fallen off his face. His brown eyes were muddy. “Yea, uh… Yea, it’s too bad. I gotta meet Ned now. I’ll see you later, Mr. Stark.” 

 

Tony tended at the name. Peter slammed the door shut behind him. With a heavy sigh, he pressed his back against the door. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn,” he seethed. On the other side of the door, Peter mirrored Tony. He waited a second, and then he took off. 

 

On his bright red bicycle, he took off towards the city. When he burst open the doors to the coffee shop, Ned was already waiting. He had his laptop set up. “Hey, Ned,” he greeted, slipping his backpack off and dropping it in the chair. Ned didn’t look up from his game. 

 

“Oh, hey, Peter! Sorry, I’m almost done…” A few seconds later, he closed his laptop. He looked up and Peter and took a spit take. “Dude, what the  _ hell  _ happened to you?” 

 

Peter slid down into the seat across from Ned. A waitress came over, and he ordered a muffin and a coffee. After she walked away, Peter shrugged at Ned. “Haven’t been sleeping well?” 

 

“Not really,” Peter chuckled dryly. “But it’s whatever.” 

 

“Like I’ve seen eye bags before, but this is insane,” Ned said, motioning. Self conscious, Peter blushed. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“I dunno… I mean, I just have trouble sleeping in that house,” he groaned. The waitress placed the coffee on the table, and Peter instantly tore into it. “I just can’t relax there. It’s so… empty.” Ned motioned him to continue. “I’m used to a cramped little apartment. Not this… not this big house where no one is around?” 

 

He shook his head frantically. “Eh, whatever,” he mumbled, snapping out of it. “Anyways, what’s up with you?” 

 

Ned, reluctant, settled into his pace. “Well, the season finale of the Walking Dead was on last night. Did you see it?” 

 

The two hung out for a couple of hours, walking around the city with their coffee. They had returned to the coffee shop so Peter could grab his bike. “Didn’t web sling today?” 

 

“No, no. It’s nice to bike once in a while,” Peter said. He leaned in. “And just look at my  _ calves _ .” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Bye, Ned. Tell me when you get home?” 

 

“Yeah, of course. Bye.” Peter got on top of his bicycle and pedaled away. Watching him go, Ned pulled his phone out of his pocket. He clicked on a contact and let it ring. 

 

“Hello?” 

 

“Hey, it’s Ned. I need to talk to you. Can you meet me? It’s about Peter.” 

 

________________

 

On the inside, Ned’s anxious heart was fluttering rapidly. On the outside, he was calm and collected. Even with Iron Man sitting across from him. “You needed to tell me something?” He stood up straight. 

 

“Peter isn’t looking too good,” he said, suddenly. It was the first time he spoke. “He’s tired.” 

 

“I’ve been working on it.” He’s stiff.

 

Ned shakes his head. “No, I mean, like, it’s worse.” Ned scrambled to explain. “It’s gotten… worse. Alot worse. And I think it’s because of you.” 

 

Ned flumbles with his drink while Tony processes this. “I know,” he says, sighing. Tony leans back in his chair and takes a gulp from his coffee. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Ned is silent. “I can’t take care of him. I don’t know the first thing about taking care of him! Even now, I’m talking to a fifteen year old about this… I should know this stuff, right?” Ned nods along with him. “Hell, I can’t even get him to sleep.”

 

Tony slammed his cup on the table. “Should I buy him something? A new bike?” 

 

“No, I don’t--” 

 

Tony cuts him off. “A car?”

 

“He doesn’t have a license,” Ned points out. 

 

“What could he want?” Tony asked, half rhetorically. 

 

Tony buries his face in his hands. “Mr. Stark,” Ned says in a way that reminds him of how Peter calls his name, “I think he’s lonely.” 

 

“How about a… What?” Tony stops. “Oh my God. Oh my  _ God. _ ” 

 

Tony stands up. “Thanks, kid. What was your name again?” 

 

“Ned. Ned Leeds.”

 

“Thanks.” He drops money on the table. He’s out the door. 

 

Tony bursts into Peter’s floor. “Peter!” He finds Peter on his ceiling. Heavy rock music is blasting through his speakers. His face is red, and his hair is fluffed in every direction. He drops down. “Hey.” He didn’t think this through. 

 

He’s not good with feelings. “Yea?” Peter says, pulling his hair out of his face. 

 

“I thought you needed space.” 

 

Peter blinks. “What?”

 

“I can move your stuff downstairs to the Avenger’s floor,” Tony said, still out of breath. 

 

Peter lunged forward and engulfed Tony in a hug. “Thank you,” he seethed. 

 

Peter didn’t say anything else. Neither did Tony. They didn’t have to.

 

Tony might be terrible with feelings, but they understand each other. 

 

“You can ask for things,” Tony said. “It’s okay to.”

 

Tony hadn’t even thought about his side of things.

 

He assumed Peter, a teenager, would want as much privacy as possible. Peter had been mad with him lately, with the whole guardian thing, so he assumed he’d want to live far from the others. He was stupid. So, so stupid. 

 

Peter had just lost the last family member he had, and you know what Tony did to him? He sent him away to live in a big empty home. That was on Tony. 

 

He feels guilty. 

 

_ I hope I can make up for all the awful things I keep doing to you, Peter. Your aunt will never forgive me if I continue to fuck this up. I’m sorry. Things will be better for you.  _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda forgot about this series...
> 
> if u liked, please comment! I only update when i know people actually want to read this lol... 
> 
> if my update is slow, check out some of my other, much better stories!
> 
> Update will be coming soon!


	6. i found this home all on my own

Aunt May didn’t have much; she was raising Peter alone and it was tough. Thankfully, Peter didn’t give her much trouble. He helped out a bunch, and he did anything to make the load easier on her. 

 

May didn’t have much money or time, and she was doing this all on her own. Despite that, she did everything she could to make a home for Peter. It broke her heart every time he had to eat alone. 

 

He hated eating alone. 

 

May would keep a dinner in the fridge for Peter, but he would barely touch it most nights. He must’ve been so lonely. He preferred getting beat up by superheroes above eating alone. 

 

He didn’t have to anymore. 

 

Tony had a broken childhood too. He knows what it’s like. 

 

They all eat together in the morning. Tony is usually awake by then. At least, Steve and Natasha are awake in the morning. The more people, the better. 

 

“Good job today,” Steve says, throwing a muffin to Nat. She catches it. Peter set his fork down on his plate. He uses his hands to nibble on the chocolate chip wheatcake. He raised his eyebrows at their sudden entrance. “Good morning, Peter, I didn’t see you there.”

 

Peter shifts in his seat. “Hi,” he greeted blandly. He picks at his food. 

 

“I didn’t know you were an early riser,” Steve mused. 

 

Peter scrunched his nose. “That or just a really late night owl,” he chuckled dryly. “What are you guys doing up so early?”

 

“Training,” Nat replies, biting into her food. Peter bites his lip. “Come spar with me. I’m getting bored taking Steve down everyday.” 

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’d be good for you,” he said, which unsettled Peter a bit. Slightly offended, he stuffed a pancake into his mouth. “Plus I could stand to get to know you a little better.” 

 

Peter looks up and meets him in the eye. Steve laughed at the expression on his face. “Don’t look so surprised,” he giggled in a manly kind of way. “You’re a teammate. You’re family.” 

 

Peter didn’t show his excitement, or at least, he tried not to. He played it cool. “Yeah,” he coughed, clearing his voice. “Yeah.” 

 

Peter started living with the others. They had started to live together… like a family would. 

 

They were already a family, long before Peter. He was an intruder here, and he felt very out of place most days. They were all so much older than him, but Tony did everything he could to make him feel like he was part of the family. 

 

They go out to eat together some days. Peter had to make a pit stop today. 

 

The retirement center knows his situation by now, and they let him linger around his aunt. They trust him not to do anything stupid. (Sometimes May will get especially mad at him, but she could never explain why.) 

 

“Do you know who I am?” 

 

Peter sat across from May. Her face was devoured in wrinkles. Her eye bags resembled Peter’s. “No, I’m sorry… Oh, wait! You’re the cook?” 

 

Peter made peace with it. This is how it is. “I wanted you to know… I found a family,” he said, smiling wryly. “It’s messy, I’ll admit it. They’re a lil’ weird, but I love them, you know? They take care of me.” He brushes his hair out of his face. “I’m happy, Aunt May. I wanted you to know. You raised me, and I’m so thankful for everything you did for me.” When he stood up, she let him hug her. She remained silent. She listened. “Thank you, Aunt May. I love you.” He placed a kiss on her cheek. When he left the center, there was a wet tear on her face. 

 

Peter never had to eat alone again. He never had to barricade himself in a closet everytime his paranoia was too much for him to bare. He was surrounded by people who have gone through the same things Peter has. He’s surrounded by family. He would never change that for anything. 

 

After they get home, Peter knocks on Tony’s door. Despite the late time of night, Tony opens the door. He’s yawning in his sweats and his tank top. “‘Sup?” he asked, stretching. “What do ya need, Spider-ling?”

 

“You told me I could be selfish,” Peter said, shaking a little. “Right?”

 

“Yea,” he said, crossing his arms. “Couldn’t this have waited…?”

 

Peter cut him off by springing off his feet and engulfing Tony in a hug. “I want…” he trailed off, burying his face into him. “I want to stay here. I want a family.” He’s quivering. “I want people to share my meals, and I want someone that will hang up my report card on the fridge. I want… I, uh, I…” He’s not crying. There’s just some dust in his eyes. 

 

Tony slaps a hand on Peter’s back. “You got it, kid.” He flashed him a toothy grin. 

 

What can he say? Tony loves to spoil the kid. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> v v v v short,,, short n sweet! 
> 
> yea tho highly sorry about the short chappie but,,,, but like it's an ending and i didn't wanna have a bunch of boring filler stuff....
> 
>  
> 
> peter n tonys relationship is so complex it hurts my BONES 
> 
> anyways,,, if u liked and enjoyed pls leave a comment or a kudos!
> 
> if u really enjoyed, check out some of my other works! ((((HIGHLY RECOMMEND BC I SPEND ALOT OF TIME ON EM SO IF U KINDA LIKED THIS, YOULL LIKE THE OTHERS EVEN MORE))
> 
> I love you all! Thanks for supporting me :)


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